she filled any situation save that of a
friend and relation of the family--yet sometimes accompanied Emmeline to
the Opera, and always joined Mrs. Hamilton at home. Many, therefore,
were the hours Ellen spent entirely alone, but she persevered
unrepiningly in the course laid down for her by the first medical man in
London, whom her aunt had consulted.

How she employed those lonely hours Mrs. Hamilton never would inquire.
Perfect liberty to follow her own inclinations she should enjoy at
least; but it was not without pain that Mrs. Hamilton so frequently left
her niece. She knew that the greatest privation, far more than any of
the pleasures her cousins enjoyed, was the loss of her society. The
mornings and evenings were now so much occupied, that it often happened
that the Sabbath and the evening previous were the only times Ellen
could have intercourse of any duration with her. She regretted this
deeply, for Ellen was no longer a child; she was at that age when life
is in general keenly susceptible to the pleasures of society; and
reserved as was her disposition, Mrs. Hamilton felt assured, the loss of
that unchecked domestic intercourse she had so long enjoyed at Oakwood
was pain, though never once was she heard to complain. These contrary
duties frequently grieved the heart of her aunt. Often she accompanied
Caroline when her inclination prompted her to remain at home; for she
loved Ellen as her own child, and to tend and soothe her would sometimes
have been the preferable duty; but she checked the wish, for suffering
and solitary as was Ellen, Caroline, in the dangerous labyrinth of the
world, required her care still more.

There are trials which the world regards not--trials on which there are
many who look lightly--those productive of no interest, seldom of
sympathy, but with pain to the sufferer; it is when health fails, not
sufficiently to attract notice, but when the disordered state of the
nerves renders the mind irritable, the body weak; when from that
invisible weakness, little evils become great, the temper loses its
equanimity, the spirits their elasticity, we scarcely know wherefore,
and we reproach ourselves, and add to our uneasiness by thinking we are
becoming pettish and ill-tempered, enervated and repining; we dare not
confess such feelings, for our looks proclaim not failing health, and
who would believe us? when the very struggle for cheerfulness fills the
eye with tears, the heart with heaviness